I want to take a few moments to publicly apologize for throwing away my presidential vote.

I believed in the success of America’s democratic principles once. I learned in civics class, not that many years ago, about our system of checks and balances, civil rights, representative leadership and personal freedoms. I soon found out, however, after leaving the small town I grew up in, that our system of governance and our culture are problematic to their people.

I was frightened by Trump’s discriminatory rhetoric from the beginning. We as Americans have always prided ourselves on effective diplomacy, meaningful discourse and human decency, but Trump stood antithetical to these values. Within the last couple of months, I grew to dislike Hillary Clinton as well, but with far less evidence.  I was only against her because she stole the primary election from Bernie Sanders with superdelegate votes, supported Haiti’s coup d’état in 1991 and represented to me the face of neoliberalism. I realized now that these criticisms were petty, overblown and buying into the sexist rhetoric that surrounded her campaign from the beginning.

When it came time for early voting, I felt empowered to make a difference where I thought it counted most: here at home. Armed with my repertoire of local elections information, I finished all of the other sections first, confident in my decisions.  When I got back to the presidential elections, however, I saw the names of Trump, Clinton and Johnson, and immediately felt disgusted, disenfranchised and cheated of a decent choice toward one of the most powerful leaders in the world. I left thinking that there was no chance Trump could get elected, since he was down in several polls by about 10 percent at the time, and that I didn’t have to sacrifice my pride to get what I wanted. I didn’t even vote third party. I felt hopeless, small and insignificant to the political machine.

I want to sincerely apologize for my choice because I could have helped the fight myself, but instead I used my privilege to throw my vote away. Ideally, I would want to help those who are disadvantaged, but instead I opted out of a fight that was obviously also mine to take part in. I’m sorry to the number of people who will be directly affected in the next four years. I’m sorry to survivors of assault who will have to see the face of a sexual predator as president of the United States. I’m sorry to undocumented people who will face immediate uncertainty and lack of safety. I’m sorry to people of color who will continue feeling like their lives don’t matter. I’m sorry to the LGBTQIA+ folks who will face harassment, violence and a vice president that supports conversion therapy. I’m sorry to Muslim Americans who will face a heightened discrimination for their religious identity. I’m sorry that proto-fascism has taken solid footing in the White House. Most of all, I’m sorry that I only thought of myself.

As a straight, white man I have always had trouble completely understanding privilege, systems of oppression and where my place is in social reform.  I need to be more careful before judging the character of a woman, especially if the accusations are coming from people who perpetuate the idea that a woman can’t perform the same job as a man.  Even the ‘Bernie or Bust,’ or the ‘Jill Stein’s Dank Meme Stash’ Facebook pages contained hateful slander that was easy to believe, simply because the arguments came from people I usually agreed with.  The truth is, Hillary was a reasonable candidate for president. She was someone with great experience, a thoughtful campaign and an agreeable stance on some of the most important issues.  I was convinced that voting for her was worse than not voting at all.  Though it is important to vote one’s conscience, sometimes there are bigger stakes at hand.

Moving forward, I’ll do what I can. I’ll try to comfort those who have been affected by our country’s choice.  I plan to volunteer more often with groups that directly help others. I am going to join the fight to win our country back from hateful rhetoric.  I also encourage others of my demographic to join me in listening, learning and demonstrating that we can be part of the solution too.  Even if you did not vote at all, it’s not too late to get informed on both sides of an issue, volunteer and empathize with those who are in fear for their lives.  Voting or not voting as a form of protest is ineffective.  The only way to create lasting change is to live by one’s values and demonstrate we can become a community again.

Justin Kuhn is a student worker with University Scholars Program